


Remember Me Always (I always think of me and you)

by msz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Aurors, Chance Meetings, Death Eaters, Falling In Love, M/M, Married Couple, Married Neville Longbottom/Draco Malfoy, Protective Neville Longbottom, post-wizarding war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-07 18:43:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19215298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msz/pseuds/msz
Summary: His chest was still heaving from holding all the pain in, the echoes of Draco’s pleas fresh on his mind. A newfound rage consumed him. He was going to kill whoever had caused him to forcefully leave the love of his life like this.He would kill the person responsible. But for that he’d have to find out whom.





	1. You Make Me Happy

It was late; perhaps too late to be shouting at the top of his lungs like this but he couldn’t seem to think straight.

Neville stormed through the house, his winter coat still heavy with snow, draped across one arm while he opened doors and made as much noise as possible.

Rage coursed through his veins and as much as he tried, nothing seemed to erase the horrifying images from springing up in his mind.

He gritted his teeth as he finally reached the bedroom and flung his cloak and other things onto an armchair near the fireplace. He turned to look at the bed. It was made; fluffed up well with cushions and warm blankets and clean pillows. It did nothing to lessen his anger, in fact it charged him up some more.

Footsteps, tentative as they were, followed him into the bedroom. He’d forgotten to bolt the door shut and lock it. Even though he knew that would be unfair to lock his husband out like that.

Neville realized he was breathing rather heavily; his ears were still ringing with the sounds of their loud arguments in the kitchen after he arrived. The fact that they argued was painful to him.

He expected his husband to deflate under his anger, he expected to be pacified with pleading grey eyes and yet –

Draco _fought_ with him.

Neville whirled around to face him; his darling husband of two years. Where was the commitment now? Where was all the trust they had allegedly placed between them years ago? Why did he have to take this decision all on his own now?

Draco’s expression was drawn, his face paler than usual. His eyes didn’t reflect worry but rather anticipation.

It was breaking him from the inside. He’d vowed to wipe his every tear, and solve all his problems and yet –

He swallowed against the words wanting to jump out, instead choosing to question, “Why did you not tell me?”

Draco looked down and away, shaking his head. “It never came up. And then you went on that mission – “

Neville laughed humourlessly, “It’s always about my job, isn’t it?”

His husband narrowed his eyes, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I’m implying. You’ve always had a problem with my job. If it wasn’t coming late then it was about me getting scrapes and cuts and what not.”

Suddenly, Draco bit out with a burst of emotion, “Of course you daft idiot. I love you and I care for you and I’m always going to worry about you.”

Then he reached out with his hands, placing warm palms against Neville’s cheeks. In any other moment of his life since he met Draco, he always loved when he did this. He’d revel in the sturdy warmth of his hands, the softness of his skin, the sound of his calming breaths as they leaned into each other.

But now they felt too heavy; shackling almost. Neville leaned down and placed his forehead against Draco’s and closed his eyes. He took a moment to breathe in his scent; the same scent that clung to their pillowcases, to the walls in their shower, to the clothes Neville wore to work.

He was going to miss it.

Trembling slightly, he raised his head and placed a soft, lingering kiss to his husband’s forehead. He ignored the small sigh of relief from Draco.

And then he excruciatingly pulled away from the comfort.

He didn’t look at Draco again, even as he felt hands on his face, arms and chest, urging him to come back.

“Neville?”

Neville walked the few steps towards the armchair where he’d dropped his things, hefting them onto his arm once again.

“Where are you going?”

He ignored Draco’s questions and turned to walk out of the bedroom, and towards the front door of their house. The warmest and homeliest place. Sometimes it felt warmer than Hogwarts, echoing with the sounds of Draco cooking while humming under his breath, with the sounds of Waldo slinking over the wooden floors to steal scraps from their kitchen table.

And he’d thought here would be the sounds of children playing but –

He quickly shut the door on that box of thoughts. That wasn’t going to happen anymore. Not now that he’d have to go.

“No, stop it. Where are you going? It’s too late at night right now and it’s storming out.”

Neville flung the front door open, a loud whoosh of air meeting him.

He turned to look back at Draco who was still stood in the hallway, eyes brimming with tears and a fearful expression.

“Don’t leave, please. I promise we’ll work this out and I’ll tell you everything – “

But Neville looked away, shaking his head, “I need to go now.”

“No you don’t. Come, Neville, please, darling come inside let’s have a chat about this at least – “

Once again he interrupted, “I need to be away from here right now, Draco.”

With that, Neville tore himself from the moment and walked out, when he heard a loud sob.

That stopped him dead in his tracks. In the years he’d known Draco he’d never seen him cry. He’d seen him grimace in pain when he broke his arm in the third year and he’d seen sullen expressions in the fifth year. Even at the Battle, he’d seen that face scrunch up in disgust at the sight of Voldemort.

But in all the years he’d spent getting to know him and eventually falling in love with him, Draco had never once cried. Let alone sobbed so openly.

Surprise made him turn around to face a red-faced Draco with tears running down his cheeks.

“You said –“ He started, hiccups making it difficult for him to talk.

Neville stood there stock still with a storm raging at his back.

Draco rubbed a hand down his face, wiping his tears frustratingly, “You said in your vows. You said that you’d never leave me.”

His tone was accusatory but his words were the cause of his heart breaking.

He rushed back into the house towards Draco and pulled him into a fierce hug.

Draco instantly buried his head into Neville’s chest and heaved long breaths, trying to control his emotions.

“ _Never_ – “ Neville started, his tone hard.

“Never assume _ever_ , that I’m leaving you. I’m not leaving you. I still love you and I always will. Do you understand me?” He gently shook Draco by the arms as the two separated but still remained embraced.

Draco pursed his lips and nodded shakily.

Finally, Neville leaned down to press his lips against Draco’s trembling ones. Slowly, he coaxed the other’s mouth open and reveled in the feeling of their tongues entwined with one another. One last time, he promised himself.

For the last time, he took his time to kiss his husband.

Because this was the last time, for a very long time.

It took all that he had to shove himself away from Draco, ignoring his pleas and cries as he rushed down the steps into the cold dark and Apparated away.

Neville arrived on a lonely, dark street lined with dilapidated looking houses, grimy with the pollution in the air and rife with ugly graffiti. He sucked in a breath and looked around him. There were no lampposts on the street anywhere, making it easy for anyone coming to be concealed in the dark.

His chest was still heaving from holding all the pain in, the echoes of Draco’s pleas fresh on his mind. A newfound rage consumed him. He was going to kill whoever had caused him to forcefully leave the love of his life like this.

He would kill the person responsible. But for that he’d have to find out whom.

Neville looked up at the house directly in front of him. He knew everyone was waiting for him inside.

His mind decided, he finally stepped towards 12 Grimmauld Place, the new headquarters for the D.A. Faction of the New Order of Aurors.

***

It was a laughable concept at the time when Harry announced they’d be naming this new faction ‘D.A.’ thanks to him, Ron and Neville being on it. There were others on this faction too who had nothing to do with the time when Hogwarts students came together as Dumbledore’s Army to fight Umbridge and learn more about the Dark Arts.

But time went on, and with every successful mission of digging up hidden Death Eaters and sending them to Azkaban, the name stuck. Every other faction under the Order was calling them that, the few mysterious individuals no one knew, because their job was to be invisible and undetectable.

It was a difficult time for them all, once they realized that the War was never really over. The attack of October 1998 was forever etched into their memories.

Luna and Rolf were getting married in a beautiful ceremony near the Lovegoods’ house meadows. Neville wasn’t a fan of fancy robes but he’d donned a pair once Luna had batted her sweet, blue eyes at him and he’d caved very quickly.

He'd thought soon after the War had ended, that there was maybe something to explore with Luna. But they'd ended up one night in the Three Broomsticks, absolutely drunk on Firewhiskey. And there, Luna had admitted to him about her special 'pen pal' from America.

With dreamy-hazed ocean eyes, she'd whispered to him of his kindness, his appreciation of her love of quirky Magical Creatures, which Neville assumed was probably because he was Newt Scamander's grandson. She mentioned how he was in the process of moving to Britain to work for the Daily Prophet. When Neville had questioned her over the possible rivalry with the Quibbler she'd only smiled at him serenely.

"Neville," she'd hummed in her low voice, "when there is someone who makes you so happy you feel as if you could touch the very stars that reflect in their eyes, nothing else matters." Those words had taken his breath away; there was never anyone in his life to make him feel that way. But if Luna had found such a person, he'd support her no matter what.

So when he'd received news of their upcoming nuptials, he'd ignored his Grandmother's laments of _'when will you be finding someone and settling down'_ and had ordered the first pair of fancy robes he could find at Diagon.

There was a slight breeze in the air that day; a perfect day for a perfect ceremony.

Almost their entire batch was present, but it was particularly lacking of any Slytherins.

But no one questioned it since so many of them were either incarcerated in Azkaban or had gone into hiding with their parents.

The first blow had felt like the ground was exploding. And then another one hit, and one after.

Soon, the earth around them was vibrating with the force of explosions and fireballs as spell after spell hit and revealed, a group of cloaked individuals, brandishing their wands at the wedding party.

Without much thinking, Neville, Harry, and Ron had shoved away from the group and chased the cloaked people, quickly engaging in a furious battle of spells.

Behind them, Ginny and Hermione gathered large crowds and rushed them back towards the Lovegoods’ house; many of the wedding guests had Apparated halfway through.

Curiously, the cloaked individuals were barely attacking. The trio of Auror Trainees would know;

Their Training Officers were harder on them than these pathetic idiots. All they used were lame Disarming spells and Protection spells with a couple of more harmful ones dotted in between.

But then it seemed to hit Neville in the middle of it.

Ron had thrown up a strong Protego Shield that covered them all and caused the cloaked individuals to stumble back a few steps.

Apparently, The Boy Who Lived wasn’t the only powerful Wizard there; during their Training it was revealed quite shockingly that Ron could cast a mile-wide Protego Shield and not bat an eyelid while doing it.

Neville quickly turned to Harry while the Shield did its work.

“They’re decoys, Harry, they _have_ to be. They’re not fighting they’re defending!

Green eyes widened in understanding as Ron’s wand wavered in shock, dropping the Shield. But as the three of them faced their enemies once again, they were surprised to see the group had Apparated away.

Harry turned to them, grim expression on his face, “I think you’re right Neville. C’mon we need to report this to Kingsley right away.”

Ron was confused, “Kingsley? Bit far up, mate. Shouldn’t we start with Cahill, you know, our boss?”

The Weasley raised his eyebrows at his best friend who shook his head, “No, Ron. This wasn’t just some random attack. Neville’s right, something’s not adding up. C’mon let’s Floo him.”

The three rushed as quickly as possible to Luna’s house, which still had a scattering of traumatized wedding guests, near the edge of the lawn. Neville quickly stopped by Ginny tending to an old man who seemed shaken.

“Gin, do you know about Luna and Rolf, are they safe?”

Ginny smiled up at him, “Don’t worry, Rolf grabbed her and Apparated as soon as we heard the noise. I’ve just received a Patronus from them and they’re at their honeymooning venue. They’re fine, bit shaken up.”

He blew out a relieved breath, “I could do with a honeymooning getaway right about now.”

Despite everything, Ginny laughed, “Get married quickly then, you git. I’m still waiting to be your Maid of Honour.”

Neville shook his head teasingly, “Not how it works.” With a parting smile, he followed Harry and Ron to the small cottage and hurried up the steps.

***

That day had set off a series of events that led to the D.A. Faction being the uppermost in the chain for handling this new group of Dark Terrorists. They’d been bumped up to number one on their Most Wanted list due to their notoriety of crashing large-scale events hosted by prominent Ministry officials.

Kingsley was being pressured by the Ministry elites to do something about it and it didn’t take much to convince Harry, Ron and Neville to take the lead on the case.

Months later, they were chasing leads in a small village in Scotland, a few miles out from Hogwarts.

As far as Neville knew, the village was full of Muggles so weeding out Magicals wasn’t going to be too hard. _Hopefully_.

Little did he know, that mild afternoon in the village market would soon change his entire life. With the flash of a pair of grey eyes.


	2. You Dare Me To Be Better

The oddest part of it all, he surmised, was that none of them was ready to talk about the War. It’d shaped them all to be the people they were today. Even though it had basically been months and now they were already well into January, it was a new year.

But the shadows of War clung to them. Throwing himself into training had been the best thing Neville had done with his time since the summer. Thanks to Healers he was able to walk on his own again in a matter of weeks, healthy enough to stand up at the Merit Ceremony where embarrassingly enough he’d been awarded a Medal of Valour from Kingsley.

His Grandmother hadn’t been able to shut up about it since. He once overheard her telling the cashier at a Muggle Market of his achievements and frankly he’d never been so ashamed to stand in a market before.

That was another thing; living in the Muggle World. Now, Neville hadn’t left the Wizarding World at all; but part of his training was to learn how to blend into his surroundings.

Most of them had grown up with the privileges of Magic around them, and hilariously one of the new Trainees didn’t even know what a coffee shop was.

So that was their first assignment: learn to live like a Muggle.

Harry was annoyingly good at it of course, having grown up Muggle for the first half of his life. Ron was furious with the assignment until Hermione had good-naturedly rolled her eyes and offered to help him out by renting together.

Ginny was soon off to training of her own for Holyhead Harpies which was half the reason Harry looked gloomy all day these days.

Neville had taken quite well to the Muggle world, if he said so himself.

Sure, figuring some things out was difficult and managing to get into an elevator was more terrifying than his first flying lesson. But he soon eased into it and in under a month, was able to form somewhat of a Muggle’s routine. His favourite time of day was going to get some coffee from a Muggle coffee shop, always asking for a fresh scone with clotted cream and strawberries. He could kiss whoever made those fresh every day.

Fumbling with the money was always a chore but he soon got the hang of it, even managing to charm the cute barista who scribbled something onto his disposable coffee cup, winking and giving it to Neville.

He took it all with an amused sort of confusion, wanting to Floo either Luna or Ginny to ask what the numbers meant, if they were some sort of Muggle custom.

But it didn’t take long for their part of training to be sped up; the Dark Terrorists had resurfaced and this time had threatened the Department and Head of International Magical Cooperation, throwing all their officials into a crazed frenzy as ambassadors and international officers refused to step into their offices at the Ministry until they were all checked for Dark Magic.

The tactics used by the D.T. were quite intriguing and rather new for the Department of Aurors. Hence, the new Trainees were brought in pretty quickly to take a look at the situation. Fresh eyes, the Head Auror had claimed.

Neville had realized horrifyingly, that these ambassadors and officers were right to feel violated and troubled; their houses had been targeted.

Thank Merlin, no one had been hurt, but a terrifyingly familiar message had been left on every doorstep. Black lines had been burnt and carved onto every doorstep with eerily similar features to a skull and a snake.

Of course, Harry was the first one to be adamant about killing Voldemort, and Neville wasn’t far off about Nagini. They were pacified soon enough when they reached a conclusion about these being copycats. Probably to hinder the progress being made on Project for the Recovery and Rehabilitation of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade.

Most of the Death Eaters were locked up in Azkaban, so the large group of D.T. didn’t explain their numbers. No, this was most definitely a copycat group or just a bunch of bored youth wanting to cause a ruckus.

** A year later **

 

Neville breathed out in the frigid January air and looked around him. He was stood on the front doorstep of their small bed-and-breakfast as they called it, in the homely village of Gillock in the north of Scotland.

This was where their last clue had led them to. A D.T. by the name of Faylin was known to have fled to this particular area, though their search of the previous town had brought up no sign of him.

Neville stretched his arms up high and groaned at the stiff muscles in his back. Their training was proving to be pretty relentless; he didn’t think he could pick up his wand and aim it at something without heaving in aching pain.

Still, could be worse, he thought as he eyed Harry amusedly.

There was a scowl on his friend’s face, which might have something to do with being away from his wife for over a month now. She was finally playing matches locally and they were all very proud of her achievements, but it didn't stop her husband from missing her, so it seemed.

Neville had to pretend he couldn’t hear Harry muttering Ginny’s name in his sleep last night.

“You good?” He inquired of Harry without looking at him, as he was joined on the doorstep.

Harry muttered something under his breath before rubbing his palms vigorously together.

“Did it have to be such a cold village? Why couldn’t he have fled to somewhere warmer?”

Neville snorted, “He’s gonna take every advantage possible.”

Then, with an aching arm he discreetly pulled out his wand and waved it, “ _Calidus_ _Circa_.”

Instantly, warmth settled around them and he heard Harry sigh out in relief.

“You’re a lifesaver, mate. Hate the cold. I miss the sun.”

He smirked teasingly at Harry, “Just the sun?”

Harry rolled his eyes but had a wry smile on his face, “Yeah, yeah, miss Gin as well.”

Neville laughed at his expression. “I still can’t believe it’s almost two years since you two have been married.”

Harry shook his head, “Can’t believe it myself.”

Neville shrugged, “Sometimes it’s like having Mum and Dad around, with you two.”

Harry laughed loudly, “You mean to say Hermione wasn’t enough of a Mum over you lot, now you need Ginny too?”

He grinned, “They give great advice.”

Harry nodded sagely, “That they do. Don’t know where we’d be without them.”

Silence reigned after; Ron joined them soon after and they all went to the small kitchen area in the house for some breakfast. The caretaker was an oblivious old woman who was helped by her granddaughter.

Isla was a sweet, young woman with brown hair and an infectious grin. But much to the amusement of Ron and Harry, she’d taken a liking to Neville.

He didn’t mind it at all. Ever since they’d sat down for breakfast and introduced themselves, Isla had sat next to him and started leaning in and whispering and giggling. He liked the attention, throwing disapproving looks at the two other men who were stifling laughs of their own.

But Neville promptly choked on his sausage when he felt a small hand on his thigh, too high up for comfort.

Isla laughed melodically at his reaction, but thankfully pulled away. Blushing slightly, he looked at Ron who was snorting into his eggs. Neville scowled at him and delivered a swift kick to his shin under the table, reveling smugly at his yelp of pain.

“Behave, children.” Harry rolled his eyes and spooned more porridge into his mouth.

They all quickly finished with their breakfast and went up to their rooms to put on their warmest clothes. It seemed foolish to set out on foot, but that was their best chance at catching Faylin off guard.

Harry and Ron were fairly easy to recognize in public, so Neville used his own unfamiliar face to their advantage and offered to scout out the local market place in case the man was frequenting that area.

Wand tucked securely in the enlarged pocket of his jeans, he trudged through the light snow towards the center of town, thankful for his boots and the Warming Charm Hermione had taught him.

The other two would go the other way, hoping to find out more information on other members of the D.T. Once they had their hands on Faylin, they’d interrogate him before turning him into the Wizengamot, where it’d be assured that he’d get the harshest sentence, for threatening the lives and safety of several Ministry officials and their families.

Neville darkly hoped that’d be enough incentive for the foul Dark Terrorist to speak out and name others.

The market place itself consisted of several shops lined up on both sides of the village with a snow-covered walkway in between. He spotted rows of lampposts alongside each row of shops and several people bustling to and fro. It was small, busy; very easy for someone to hide if they didn’t want to be found.

Forcing his posture into an easy one, he sauntered towards the market, keeping his gaze that of a casual visitor, while keenly eyeing several faces for Faylin.

The man they were looking for had blond hair and green eyes, not as synonymous with the mostly brown haired people of this village. He’d yet to spot a blond head so that might make it easy for him to spot Faylin.

Unless he changed his appearance, Neville thought frustratedly.

He surreptitiously glanced through the window of the first shop, a meat shop. Besides the display of raw meats, and a couple of female customers he didn’t spot anyone of interest.

Moving on, he came to the front of a greengrocer’s; shelves and barrels of fresh fruits and vegetables lined the front, with a small interior where stood an old man behind the counter tending to the line of customers.

He glanced at the customers, not seeing anything interesting and shuffled forward to the next shop.

Neville was just contemplating entering the clothing shop next door when he stopped dead in his tracks. A lock of blond hair; he can’t believe he almost missed it. One of the customers in the previous shop had a lock of blond hair peeking out from under his hat.

Cursing himself he whirled around and all but stumbled back to the shop –

No sign of him. The head of blond hair was nowhere to be seen and as far as he can remember the man had been wearing a black pea coat.

Gritting his teeth, he looked around frantically, trying to spot the familiar figure.

_There._

Just off to the west of the market place. A lone man was walking away from Neville, a bag of fruit in his hand, with the same pea coat and blond hair peeking through from behind his ear.

That had to be him. Neville hesitated for a moment; the man was walking too casually to be aware of his surroundings. He didn’t think Faylin was so much of an idiot not to be aware of his surroundings like that. Didn’t he know there were Aurors on his tail ever since?

Neville scoffed at the thought. Maybe he was too egotistical to believe that Aurors had finally caught up to him. He probably thought he was safe in an obscure Muggle town.

Heaving a slow breath, he calmed himself down and moved to follow him at a large distance.

He didn’t want Faylin to get spooked and run away or Apparate to another town like last time.

No, he was going to see where he was going first. Then he’d attack and subdue and call for Harry and Ron with his Patronus.

A bubble of excitement sprung up through his gut; finally, they were getting somewhere. Hopefully by the end of this week, the Head Aurors would have several members of the D.T. in their custody, and Neville can finally return to his cottage for some R&R.

His thoughts faded away as the figure turned right onto another lane, and he followed soon after, taking note of more shops around the corner. It was quieter here, with a café in the middle that had tables and chairs set out for customers.

But all the customers were inside today, it was too cold. Neville realized he couldn’t see where the man had gone and looking around quickly, he decided to enter the café, maybe get a drink and pretend to browse around the shops outside.

It was warm inside, which was the first thing he realized. And then the aromatic fug of scents hit him;

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted up to him followed close by the comforting scent of yeast baked breads and biscuits. The sweet scent of jams had his eyes zeroing in on the small trolley-like table to the side, that had rows and rows of fresh jams displayed on top of it.

Neville’s eyebrows rose in surprise; a café that sold fresh jams as well? That was a win-win situation for him, his sweet tooth was always seeking out jams and preserves from local shops.

Looking around, he saw that it wasn’t too busy but there were a few customers sat there, having coffee and scones and chatting merrily away, probably seeking shelter from the unrelenting cold.

But then his eyes hooked onto a figure behind the counter. A small smile of contentment was on his face at the atmosphere inside, but it fell just as he looked at the man.

That looked exactly like the figure he’d followed onto this lane. _Shit_.

He was going to get spotted.

His heart raced at the thought of getting caught like an amateur so he ducked into the line of customers at the till and peeked out from behind another man who was lined up.

If he thought getting caught was bad, the face he saw behind the counter just about blew his mind.

There were two more people in front of him, and one of them paid and moved by leaving him and the man in front of him to order.

But the sight in front of him apparently undid the lock on his mouth.

Neville ended up blurting out, “ _Draco_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always whoever is reading this, pls let me know if you like it :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Let me know if you liked it so I'll write more and post soon :)


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